


❝Sometimes I get so far into someone else's head that I forget anything else exists❞

by 334-rivingtonstreet- newyork (whistling_in_the_dark)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, jaqueenie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25132966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whistling_in_the_dark/pseuds/334-rivingtonstreet-%20newyork
Summary: Queenie treats herself to a trip inside the head of a very much in love Jacob.
Relationships: Queenie Goldstein & Jacob Kowalski, Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski
Kudos: 9





	❝Sometimes I get so far into someone else's head that I forget anything else exists❞

The exhaustion of over a week worth of work soaked his very bones. Late nights had became normality for his mind would always be racing after a long day. Late nights, they had never been good. Late nights meant darkness, they meant fear. They granted time of terror, they had been for years.

Yet for awhile now a single presence had been able to fight away the ever lurking scent of gunpowder which seemed to have nestled in his nostrils years ago. The silhouette of a pretty, smiley woman was the first one to enter his mind once Jacob's feet were lifted off the ground and his body felt quite like it was sinking into the otherwise not so comfortable mattress. Thoughts such as this one brought warmth. A curious feeling to the man's stomach. A light. Quite literally, for he believed that if one were to cut him open a ball of light might fly away towards the ceiling. And who knows, maybe a spell like that happened to exist. Maybe if the blonde woman were to point her wand towards him (and, oh, the seashell shaped handle would nestle in the crease of her wrist as she flung it!) a spark of light might exit his chest and it might chase away the night. It might make her eyes shine, it might make her hair seem quite literally golden.

One by one, happy little thoughts entered his mind, as if on a string. Golden thoughts they were. Golden quite like Queenie's hair, fair quite like Queenie's skin. Caramel flavoured, cinnamon scented golden thoughts.

Warmth seemed to cover him as if a blanket. The uncomfortability of his suit was long forgotten. Jacob would never have guessed that he had let himself enter the chamber of golden thoughts before even putting on a nightgown of sorts. Jacob would never have guessed that a lamp might still be lighting the room for his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, the room completely nonexistent.

It was rather funny that he seemed to barely acknowledge the quiet entrance of the real being which inspired his current state of calm but clear insanity. If the existence of such private thoughts were called obsession and if an obsession could be referred to as insanity of sorts than this might be the first time in his life in which Jacob was ready to advocate for the instability of his fragile mind.

The most quiet of sighs had left his lips as nothing but a sign of exhaustion when the light of the lamp had quite suddenly disappeared. It was a disturbance of sorts yet the warmth in his chest seemed to grow upon the realisation that the godlike creature of his golden thoughts had entered his space. Had made the room comfortably dark for him, had quietly dressed itself in a light and fair nightgown and had barely sat on the very edge of the bed.

Jacob would say something, of course, wasn't the exhaustion too strong. The covers of the bed seemed to hiss quite softly as he shifted his whole body towards the slim figure. A drunken smile was on his lips, the closest he might get to speaking out loud. It was a pity that he seemed unable to pronounce any of the golden thoughts, to let her know that her very scent was hypnotizing. Let her know that years of war and an ever lingering scent of gunpowder had disappeared completely thanks to her existence alone. To thank her for the calmness she brought, at least.

The fair nightgown shifted, flowing over her body as Queenie lay a new blanket over him. Ironically, the piece of fabric itself felt colder than the light he felt inside his chest. Quietly, the pretty, smiley woman's body slipped under the cover, right beside his own. It was astonishing, he thought. Had she trained the elegance of her own movements? Had she planned the softness of it all? Had she truly, or was she godlike enough to be perfect without even trying?

Automatically, Jacob seemed to have moved closer. He had pressed his body (or rather his suit. How tragically ridiculous that suit stood out in the nature of such a moment) against Queenie herself.

New thoughts were entering his mind. More delicious, more grand ones. Her scent was not of cinnamon that night but of the lightest, softest soap one could possibly find in New York. Did the soap itself have magical properties? Oh, it must've. A drop of Amortentia, a drop of liquid happiness, pressed into a block of soap and rubbed into her fair skin. How soft such a thought felt and how warm that skin was to the touch.

The lowest of hums had left his lips. The pretty, smiley woman brought peace. Her presence made the warmth of his chest spread around every cell of his. It tied him to the night and it cleared the path for sleep to enter his body.

Thoughts were getting grander, warmer. Not even ideas but sensations. Love filled insanity.

/I love you. I love you. I love you./

The smiley woman's arm had shifted so slightly and the tips of her fingers were brushing against his cheek. A sensation which sent shivers through his body.

/I love you. I love you. I love you./

The softest lips had pressed against his own. Jacob himself had barely managed to move his own in response. A hypnosis of sorts had occurred, his eyelids slipping over his eyes as slowly as Queenie's fingers brushed down his cheek.

A whisper so quiet entered the space between his skin and his bones that no one could ever tell it apart from imagination. Yet it was a very real thing and a very sincere one.

❝Oh, I love you too, Jacob.❞


End file.
